


I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm

by kate_the_reader



Series: Going Home [3]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, flash freeze fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:53:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rather than spend a blizzard weekend in their luxury New York hotel, Eames wants to go skiing. Arthur indulges  him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got My Love To Keep Me Warm

Eames looks out of the window of the hotel on Crosby Street as the first tiny flurries start and knows he doesn't want to spend a blizzard weekend in New York, where the snow will turn to slush too soon and people will be cross and cold. 

Of course, they could easily spend it right here, a whole weekend in a huge hotel bed is no hardship. But this is too rare a treat to pass up. 

“Darling,” he says, turning to where Arthur is sitting cross-legged on the bed reading a weather site on his tablet, “Let’s get out of the city. Let’s go skiing!” 

Arthur frowns. “Haven’t we left it too late? They're predicting a foot by tonight.” But then he looks up properly and sees the plea Eames knows is on his face. “Let me make the arrangements,” he says. 

Within an hour, Arthur has hired an SUV (and checked that snow tires have been fitted), found a lodge noted for its huge beds, fireplaces and great food and bought them both ski outfits that will be delivered just before they leave. 

Eames overhears the sales clerk on the phone saying in response to Arthur’s sharp tone: “Of course sir, absolutely, the goods will be delivered by 2pm,” and he can't help his smile. Arthur in full organizational flow is delicious. 

He's packing their bags on the dresser, but he goes over and pushes Arthur down on the bed. “Thank you, love,” he says, “You indulge me so.” 

Arthur stretches and relaxes into being kissed. “You know, Eames,” he says after a bit, “I can’t ski.” 

“Well, neither can I, darling!” Eames admits, “Unless you count that one time. But I was a bit busy trying to avoid getting stuck in limbo to enjoy the experience.” 

They don't joke about their jobs, especially not that one, and he never would with anyone else, but Arthur is different. 

“I always regretted not seeing you in that winter warfare uniform,” Arthur laughs. “I'm sure you were very dashing on skis.” He frowns. “But seriously, Eames. Can you really not ski?” 

"How hard can it be?" says Eames, "We're fit, you have excellent balance and reflexes, even in zero gravity, we'll be fine." He settles even more heavily on Arthur and kisses him for a few more minutes. Until Arthur laughs and says, "Up, Mr Eames, we've got to get going before the storm hits properly." 

Eames sighs and gets up. "What color is your ski outfit, darling?" he says. 

"Black," says Arthur, "Yours is orange." 

"You know me so well, love," says Eames. 

The room phone buzzes and Arthur says, "We'll be right down." 

At the front desk, two huge puffy bags are waiting for them. Arthur takes them, pays their bill and strides out to hail a cab. Eames smiles at the concierge and follows. 

Arthur drives the hire car. Eames doesn't mind driving, but he's never gotten that comfortable with driving on the right, so he checks the Google map, fiddles with the radio and settles back. It is such a treat to steal time away from the job with Arthur like this. "We should do this more often, darling," he says, reaching past the gearshift to rest his hand on Arthur's thigh. Arthur glances down, but keeps his hands on the wheel as the snow flurries get denser. 

An hour later, thick snow is swirling in their headlights and Arthur has a crease between his brows. "I don't think …" he says. 

"Oh no, please, love, don't give up yet," says Eames, "It's only another 60 miles." 

"Three hours at this rate," says Arthur. 

"Yeah," says Eames. "I didn't think this through, really." 

The weather station says the blizzard is going to be even worse than predicted. "Get off the roads as soon as you can," the presenter says. "Roads will be impassable at least until morning across the whole of upstate New York." 

"Well, that's it," says Arthur. 

"I'm sorry, love," says Eames. "We could be in that huge bed right now." 

"Well," says Arthur, "Well, that's true. Find us somewhere close by, Eames?" 

Eames is just pulling up Google when he spots a motel sign. "There you go," he says. "Hope it's good enough for you, darling!" 

"Am I really that picky and difficult?" says Arthur, pulling into the parking lot. He glances across at Eames, frowning a bit. 

"Oh no," says Eames quickly, "No, no, love. Not at all. You have standards. I'm the winner, I get to enjoy your standards too." 

"Because I think this may be a bit of a basic place, if they even have room at all." 

"Well, let's see," says Eames. 

The reception office is small and overheated. The young guy behind the desk has a bit of a harried air. "I just gave the last room to these guys," he says pointing at the eight college students clustered around the vending machine in the corner. 

"Oh, well, okay," says Arthur, "Where's the next nearest motel?" 

"There's nothing for another 10 miles, and I know they're already full," says the clerk. "But hang on, sir," he says. "Um, guys," he calls over to the students. "Want to save some money? If you all stay in the one room, I'll let you have it for half rate, what'dya say, help me out here?" 

The students glance at each other. "Hell yeah!" says a tiny girl almost engulfed by a huge purple knitted scarf. "More money for beer. We'll probably be awake watching movies all night anyway, not so?" 

"Thanks guys," says Eames, "You saved us from a grim fate there!" 

"No problem," says a tall gangly guy. He slings an arm around purple scarf girl, "No problem at all, believe me!" 

Grabbing the armfuls of snacks they've coaxed out of the machine, the students go off giggling. 

"Thank you, um, Gary," says Arthur, reading the kid's name badge, "Quick thinking. We really appreciate it." 

"Yeah," says Eames, "We really do!" Arthur gives him a full-dimples smile. Gary beams as he catches the fallout. "It's the last room along the walkway," he says. "The ice machine is on the way. If you need it." He blushes. 

"Come on, darling," says Eames, taking Arthur's hand. Something about the slightly crazy circumstances makes him a bit more open than he might normally be in Smallsville. 

They pull the car round in front of the room. The students are trooping into their one room next door. "Hi again," says purple scarf girl. 

The room is cramped and a bit garish, but it's clean. The heat isn't all that efficient. 

Eames takes off his shoes by the door and heads over to the bed. "Come here, darling," he says. 

Arthur comes over and falls on the bed against Eames."I didn't realize how tense I was driving in that," he sighs. 

Eames pulls him close and feels Arthur relax. "Love, I really am sorry we're stuck here when we could be in the that lovely hotel room, close to the museum and lots of great food. Forgive me for being so impulsive?" 

Arthur twists round."Eames, I'm not sorry to be here with you. Sure, that was a really nice hotel, but this is an adventure. I've never seen this much snow!" 

Eames leans over till he has Arthur pressed into the mattress. Arthur kisses him back for a few minutes, but then he says, "Up, Mr Eames, I'm not doing anything on this ugly bedspread." 

The walls are a bit thin, and they can hear the students' movie and their increasingly raucous chatter, but they are not distracted from each other for a long, long time. 

When Eames wakes with a faceful of Arthur's hair and Arthur's arm slung across his chest, he needs to pee and he is starving. 

He gets up and peeps out the window on his way to the bathroom. Under the weak yellowish light of the parking lot, snow is banked high around the cars. It is very still. Even the TV next door has faded to a pleasant hum. 

Coming back to bed, he tries not to let cool air under the covers. Arthur blinks and smiles up at him. 

"Are you hungry?" Eames whispers, somehow stilled by the quiet outside. 

"Mmmm, yes," Arthur whispers back. 

"Damn," says Eames. 

"No, that's where you are wrong," says Arthur. "I packed the rest of your mother's fruitcake." 

"Oh love," says Eames. "You really are the best planner." 

"Pity we can't have tea," says Arthur. "Cake's in my bag. I'm too warm to move." 

A bed picnic of fruitcake means fingers have to be licked clean. 

In the morning, Eames is woken by shrieks from outside. Arthur is at the window. "The kids are having a snowball fight," he says, eyes dancing, "Get into that ski suit and let's show them how to fight properly!" 

Arthur looks devastating in his black ski outfit, and Eames likes the silly shade of orange Arthur chose for him. It's not tasteful. Arthur raises an eyebrow. "Nice," he says, "Suits you." 

"You knew it would, love, didn't you?" says Eames. But there's no time for flirting. Purple scarf girl runs past clutching a snowball and, apparently on impulse, throws it at Eames. 

"You're on," he shouts at her, scooping up snow and hurling himself into the fray. Arthur is at his back, efficiently packing snow into hard little balls. 

The students don't know what's hit them, and they are a lot more fun to fight than some business tycoon's hostile projections. 

Finally the battle winds down. Eames has a cold trickle down his back where snow slipped past his collar. Arthur's hair is a mess, the tips of his ears bright red. 

Motel clerk Gary comes on shift and tells them the snowplows have cleared the roads. 

"Shall we go on to the lodge, Eames?" says Arthur. 

"We could," says Eames, "Wouldn't you rather go home though?" 

"Yes," says Arthur, "Let's." 

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from a Billie Holiday song, you can listen to it [here](https://youtu.be/Hs4AUuZ9TKk)


End file.
